Leticia's Sorrow
by GoldenJezebel
Summary: After 1840, Leticia returns to Collinsport to reunite with her beloved husband, Desmond. What she finds hiding in waiting, however, are tragedy, sorrow, and pain... COMPLETE
1. The Lioness at the Gate

CH 1: The Lioness at the Gate

_Dearest Leticia,_

_By the time this letter reaches you, I can only pray that you will once more be returning to Collinsport. Words simply cannot express how much our separation has affected my weary heart, yet I know that once I behold one of your glorious smiles of sunshine that all will be well, again._

_Mother sends her sympathies over your father's sudden ailment, yet since I have heard very little from you and your family, I trust that he is faring better? Jerome is a good man, Leticia, and I would be most aggrieved if he were to suddenly pass on. If he is still unwell by the time you read this, please take heart and do not give up, for I will never let you suffer alone. Although I feel that I could be a far better husband, I can at least give you this promise and mean it with every living fiber of my being._

_In other matters, Quentin and Daphne are finally wed. They were quite disappointed to hear that you were still in Boston, but please do not fret over your unforeseen absence, for I bade them to understand. Since we are addressing 'surprises', I have heard through a letter from your sister that you have one of your own. I must admit that I am terribly anxious to discover this unexpected good news, so please hurry back to me safe and in good health._

_Forever Yours,_

_Desmond_

Leticia sighed as she refolded the letter for the umpteenth time, her eyes closing as she allowed the constant rocking of the carriage to lull her into a peaceful serenity. Collinsport was just as she remembered it: small, quaint, and modest, yet this time around she couldn't help but feel a strange surge of reverence and familiarity blossom deep within her heart.

"Tisha, luv, are ya still smilin' over that letter?"

Leticia opened her eyes with a start, her smile only widening as she regarded her sister, Clara with a shy nod. "Why yes, I suppose I am – I'm just so anxious over what Desmond'll say…"

"About the baby?"

When Leticia nodded, Clara fondly placed a hand over her sister's protruding middle, her gray eyes softening as she returned, "'e'll be overjoyed an' you know it, luv. You an' Desmond 'ave been tryin' for a lil' one for the past three years, now."

"Yes" Leticia agreed, "but what if 'e's changed 'is mind? Perhaps 'e's too busy for a child, now…"

Clara rolled her eyes. "Oh, goodness, luv, will ya just listen to yourself? You've got the most lovin' an' understandin' 'usband a girl could ever wish for! It'll be alright, you'll see."

Now placing her hand over her sister's, Leticia smiled warmly before giving a grateful nod. In truth, it wasn't Desmond that she was worried about, but Flora…

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Flora Collins brought her glass of sherry up to her lips, her delicate brows drawing inward as her thoughts traveled once more to that of her son. Desmond was growing more and more distant by the day, and she was well aware of the fact that it was all because of his intolerable wife. Oh, how she longed for the days when Desmond would regale only _her_ with his stories and not think of that insufferable Leticia!

Frowning, Flora then reflected on how she'd only allowed the performer to take refuge in her home because Gerard had bade it so, but now that her own son had thrown away his life, she knew that she had made a dreadful mistake.

_'Oh, why didn't I see it all coming?'_ she wondered, her grip subconsciously tightening about her glass as she shook her head. _'__Why__ did I allow my dear Desmond to marry that gold-digging harlot? She doesn't truly love my son – I __know__ she doesn't!"_

"Mrs. Collins?"

Flora immediately looked up, her brows drawing upward as she gazed upon her maid in expectance. "Yes, Constance, what is it?"

Curtsying, she politely returned, "Mrs. Leticia Faye Collins and her sister, Clara Faye are here to see you, ma'am. Shall I bring them in?"

Flora's green eyes flashed dangerously, yet she managed to bestow the maid with a tight-lipped smile before nodding her consent. "Why yes, yes of course – they are family, are they not? Let them in, child, let them in!"

Giving yet another curtsy, Constance turned about on her heel in order to usher in the new arrivals, Leticia and Clara now entering the room with an infectious spirit that would make the most cold-hearted of men quite ill.

With a frown of distaste, Flora took note of Leticia's blushing cheeks and rounded middle, her tone rather clipped as she remarked, "I trust that your travels went well? You both appear to be in one piece, so I suppose I should thank the driver for being so careful."

"Oh yes, the carriage ride was _marvelous!_ Clara an' I could scarcely believe all the beauty!" Leticia gushed, clapping her hands to her heart as she breathed a sigh. "In fact, I should probably wait 'til my Desmond arrives ta tell ya everything so ya don't get bored – when will 'e be 'ome, luv?"

Flora immediately grew silent, her eyes dimming as she hissed, _"My_ Desmond won't be coming home ever again, Leticia, for, God rest his soul, he is now in a far better place."

"W-_what?"_

"He is _dead!"_

With a horrified gasp, Leticia felt her world caving in on her at a maddening speed, her eyes rolling back in her head as Clara hurriedly rushed over and caught her before she could collapse.

With a disbelieving shake of the head, Clara laid Leticia down upon the settee before demanding, "How did it 'appen, Flora? We just 'eard from Desmond a week ago!"

"A lot can happen in a week, Miss Faye" the matriarch snapped. "If you truly _must_ know, he was in a terrible carriage accident – apparently he was going to see your oh-so-charming sister – and was killed instantly."

Wincing, Clara hotly demanded, "Beggin' your pardon, ma'am, but whaddaya mean, 'if we truly must know'? Desmond was my brother-in-law an' my dear Leticia's 'usband – a' _'course_ we 'ad a right ta know!"

"That very well may be" Flora agreed, "but now that Desmond is gone, I no longer have to treat either of you as one of my own. Your sister is a conniving trollop, Miss Faye, so I suggest you teach her to be a lady before she can come anywhere near his will. I trust that _that_ is what is most important?"

"Oh!" With a sob, Clara tried to rouse Leticia from her state of impermanent sleep, her voice now muddled with tears as she spat, "How _dare_ you speak a' my Leticia that way when she loved 'er 'usband more than life, itself? She cares nothin' for 'is money – all she ever wanted was ta give 'im a son, an' now that 'e's gone, she can't even turn ta 'er own mother-in-law for comfort! You both are the same, luv, can'tcha see that? Ya both loved Desmond with your whole 'earts!"

Flora snorted. "I absolutely _refuse_ to be compared to some uneducated performer! True, Desmond was what brought us all together, but I am afraid that that was _all_ we had in common. When your sister awakens, you may tell her that I will make sure you both have a place to stay at the Collinsport Inn."

"What? But 'ow will we be able ta visit Desmond's grave? The property's under lock an' key!" Clara insisted in dismay.

Flora, however, was far from caring. "I am afraid that that is your problem and not mine, Miss Faye. If you are quite done, I will have Constance show you to the door."

"There's no need for any a' that" Clara snapped, her eyes icy and filled with contempt as she balled up her fists at her sides. "I absolutely refuse ta accept the 'elp of such a selfish, cold-'earted woman such as yourself!"

With a pitiful sob, Clara gathered the now semi-conscious Leticia in her arms and began to lead her across the threshold, Flora's eyes narrowing dangerously as she watched them walk out of her life for what she prayed to be forever.

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"Mother? Mother, are you here?"

"Oh, Desmond, I worried when you didn't come home at five – did you have a busy day?" Flora inquired, her heart warming as she kissed her son and cradled his face in between her hands.

Smiling, Desmond pleasantly acknowledged, "Well yes, more or less – do you happen to have any news of Leticia? I still haven't received any letters from the Faye's since last April."

Flora stiffened, yet it was barely noticeable. "Why no, darling, I'm afraid that I haven't – perhaps she's met yet another rich dandy and is exploiting him of his hard-earned fortune as we speak."

"Mother, please don't start that, again" Desmond begged, his mouth drawing into a grim line as he stubbornly shook his head. "My Leticia would never do that to me – we love each other far too much."

_"Love?_ Hmph! Your wife wouldn't know love if it smacked her square in the nose!" Flora scoffed. "If you have any sense at all, you will get this _ridiculous_ marriage annulled and remarry."

"No – I could never do that" Desmond argued. "Even if what you say proves to be true, I will keep Leticia as my wife. After all that we've been through together, I am most certain that I can never love another."

"B-but Desmond…!"

"Goodnight, Mother" he gently interrupted, "I will see you in the morning."

Bestowing a kiss upon her cheek, Desmond then turned and left Flora to stew amidst her own cloud of furious outrage.

**A/N:** I absolutely _love_ Leticia Faye, so I'm so pleased that I've FINALLY been able to come up with an idea that features her and her hardships. Now I know that Flora may seem much different than on the show, but I needed a central conflict, so voila. This story won't be featuring rainbows and butterflies, so, like most of my stories, there will be an overlying darkness with hints of sunshine peaking through. Hopefully you've enjoyed this – if you have, please tell me so I can crank out the next chapter! ;0)


	2. The Widow's Wail

**A/N:** First of all, I'm SO sorry for taking forever and a year to update this – since I took so long, here's a brief recap: Leticia returned (pregnant) to Rose Cottage, only to have Flora tell her that Desmond had been killed in a carriage accident. Completely unbeknownst to her and her sister, Clara, Desmond is actually alive and well and anxiously awaiting Leticia's return. And now for the rest of the story… ;0P

**CH 2: The Widow's Wail**

Hugging her swollen belly, Leticia continued to weep bitterly as she trekked in an inebriated-like stupor along the beach, her hair whipping to and fro in front of her face and helping to blind her already blurred vision. "Oh, Desmond" she moaned, "'ow can I ever 'ope ta live withoutcha?"

The waves crashed angrily against the shore in response, the performer miserably dropping down to her knees as she cradled her face in her hands and heaved an embittered sob. She knew the answer to her pitiful question and felt that all of God's creation did, too – she could _never_ live without Desmond, nor could she ever hope to find happiness now that the only being who could bring a smile to her face regardless of her mood was gone.

Wiping at her stinging eyes, Leticia tried to right herself back on her feet, but to no avail, an agonized cry escaping her lips the moment she tripped and fell back down amidst the sand. Sobbing, she pressed her forehead against the earth and envisioned Desmond's warm and caring face, bedazzling heartbreaker smile, and the features that never failed to make her weak: his brilliant blue-gray eyes.

"Oh, Desmond…"

Placing a manicured hand over her quivering mouth, Leticia gazed up toward the sky as if seeking salvation, only to suddenly find her bleary gaze resting upon a deadly, yet familiar landmark…

Widow's Hill.

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"Good afternoon, Desmond – a little early to be knocking 'em back, isn't it?"

Managing a weak smile for his cousin's benefit, the man in question shrugged his shoulders before mumbling, "I don't know, Quentin… I suppose I just lost track of time, is all. There's really no point in my abiding by the clock now anyway, since I've got no one to share in my solitude."

Quentin gave him a sympathetic smile before having a seat alongside him. The Eagle Tavern was fairly busy that glorious afternoon, so apparently there were quite a few patrons who currently shared in Desmond's miserable temperament.

Motioning to the barkeep for a toddy, Quentin then leaned in toward his cousin before urging, "Cheer up, Desmond, she'll come back – just because you haven't heard from the Faye's doesn't mean that a letter isn't on its way this very moment. After all, didn't Leticia always vow to stay by your side? I truly believe that woman was ready to die for you, if need be."

Desmond immediately soured. "Please, Quentin, I really do not wish to speak of Leticia at this moment – I hate to admit it, but Mother's very nearly got me convinced that there's another man."

_"What?"_ Breathing a laugh, Quentin accused, "Desmond, you're _mad!"_

"Am I?" With serious blue-gray eyes, Desmond insisted, "It's been months, Quentin – _months,_ and out of all that time Leticia never once thought to write me. She could've very easily done so, yet she didn't even bother…perhaps she doesn't realize that I love her as much as I do." Shaking his head, he revealed, "I'd do anything for her, Quentin – _anything,_ yet she won't let me get close enough to do so."

Finally receiving his toddy, Quentin thanked the barkeep before turning back to Desmond with amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Desmond, will you just listen to yourself? You know as well as I do that Leticia worships the very ground you walk on, so why don't you just swallow your pride and write to her first?"

Desmond appeared as if he'd been accosted. "I most certainly will not! If it turns out that Leticia really _is_ having an affair, I will be the laughingstock of Collinsport for having worn my heart on my sleeve!"

"What, so you love her, but not enough to write and see if she's in good health?" Rolling his eyes, Quentin insisted, "Perhaps she's been ill these past few months!"

"And perhaps she's been behaving like the lower sort of her sex and has been making a mockery of our love – if this is so, what then, Quentin? Shall I send a carriage out to the Faye estate and urge Leticia's gentleman friend to move in to Rose Cottage with us?" With a bitter smile, Desmond relented, "This, after all, would allow Leticia what she truly wanted, would it not?"

Quentin shook his head in disappointment. "I just don't understand you, Desmond – you've never allowed Flora to sway your opinion of Leticia before, so why start now?"

"I don't know" Desmond admitted softly, "but I'm very frightened that Leticia isn't as invested in our marriage as I am. If she's not, then I…" Trailing off, he shook his head before muttering, "Look, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore – let's just talk about something that meets to _both_ of our likings."

With an uneasy smile, Quentin leaned back in his seat and nodded his consent.

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Drawing her cape in closer about her shoulders, Clara pushed back a lock of her flaxen hair before glancing about her with perplexed gray eyes. Oh, she just _knew_ that she shouldn't have taken the narrow path, but it had looked so charming and quaint! Now that she was lost, however, the area promptly lost its appeal and became quite a dreadful place to behold.

When Clara took a small step forward, a sudden rustling of leaves caught her attention, her voice rather timid as she ventured, "Wh-who's there? Come now, I ain't got time for no fun an' games, so quit bein' a coward an' come on out!"

The sound of pitiful wailing that greeted Clara's ears caused her hair to stand slightly on end, her voice now rising amidst her hysteria as she screeched, "Who's there!? I _demand_ thatcha show yourself right this instant!"

When nothing but pitiful sniffling greeted her senses, Clara began tiptoeing toward the noise with a tremendous bout of uneasiness, her eyes widening once she spotted a familiar blonde figure gazing down from over a cliff at the bone-crushing drop below.

"No, Tisha!" she screamed. "Don't do it!!"

Slowly turning toward her sister, Leticia regarded Clara with tearful blue eyes, a crazed laugh escaping her lips as she returned, "Oh, luv, why am I not the slightest bit surprised ta see _you_ here? Ya always _were_ an incredibly nosy child, now weren'tcha?"

"Tisha…Tisha, _please_ listen ta me" Clara urged, her heart pounding as she dared to take a step closer. "Jumping off a' Widow's Hill won't bring Desmond back, luv, so please…take me hand and we'll go back ta the Inn."

Leticia gave her an eerie smile. "Why, ya know somethin', luv? You're absolutely right – jumpin' off this 'ere cliff _won't_ bring Desmond back at all…"

"Oh, thank Godja realized that, luv, 'cause I…"

"It'll bring me ta _him"_ Leticia interrupted, a crazed fire erupting behind her eyes as she abruptly turned and began racing toward the rocky ledge.

"Tisha, _NO!!!"_

**A/N:** Dun dun dunnn… lol :0P I don't really have much to say here except I hope it wasn't TOO bad… :-S


	3. The Vanquished

**A/N:** Sorry for the cliffhanger (literally…har har), but I was feeling lazy last chapter and hopefully made up for it with this one…keyword being hopefully. ;0P

**CH 3: The Vanquished**

"Tisha, _NO!!!"_

Racing forward on rubbery legs, Clara felt as if her world were crashing down around her as she lunged forward and managed to catch Leticia by her coat, the performer screaming in outrage as she moved to jump and found herself being pulled back to safety.

"Let go, luv, let _go!"_ she wailed. "Ya jus' don't understand – I must go ta 'im before 'e forgets me, Clara, I _must!"_

Wresting Leticia protectively into her embrace, Clara sobbed, "No, Leticia, Desmond ain't waitin' for ya at all – 'e wants ya ta live your life an' raise 'is son!"

Trembling, Leticia wailed, "I can't, luv, I jus' _can't!_ I need Desmond 'ere with me, 'cause no son's worth livin' for if I ain't got 'im by my side!"

"'ow can ya be so selfish, Tisha? God blessed ya both with a wee bundle a' joy, yet mere moments ago ya were completely willin' ta terminate it!" Clara snapped, tears spilling past her lashes as she firmly held her hands against Leticia's cheeks. "Luv, don'tcha realize what you're doin'? Yes, Desmond was a glorious man, butcha need ta live for those who needja."

Placing her hand against Leticia's belly, Clara felt her heart break the moment her sister burst into tears and threw her arms about her neck.

"Oh, luv!" she moaned, "'ow could I 'ave been so blind? Desmond wouldn't've wanted me ta die at all, but ta live! Ta live an' raise our beautiful baby boy!"

Clara nodded past her tears. "Yes, luv, _yes!_ Desmond loved ya with all 'is 'eart, an' I know the last thing 'e'd wantcha ta do is throw your life away for 'is sake!" Taking Leticia's hand in hers, Clara became concerned the moment she felt how unbearably cold it was. "Tisha, luv, you're shiverin'! We've got ta getcha warmed back up!"

"No, no, I'm fine, I…"

"Nonsense!" Clara firmly interrupted. "You jus' come with me down ta the Eagle an' we'll getcha a brandy – that should warm ya up _and_ settle your nerves."

Nodding meekly, Leticia allowed her sister to take her by the arm and begin the monotonous journey back into town.

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"My, my, I never knew you were such a good marksman, Desmond!"

The aforementioned couldn't help but smirk. "I don't exactly consider being able to play darts a direct relation to marksmanship, but I suppose I won't reject the praise when it's so graciously provided."

"Still in need of a good pick-me-up then, I take it?"

Desmond nodded. "Yes, quite. In fact, what say you to my becoming acquainted with some new, charming young woman?"

"What on earth are you babbling about?" Quentin demanded. "If you're still stewing over the prospect of finding another woman, I demand that you stop at once!"

Desmond snorted. "And what if I am? A man can't wait forever, you know, so Mother is right for a change – I need to accept that Leticia's never coming back and find a new bride."

"You're mad!"

Smirking, Desmond returned, "Perhaps, but you'll think me far madder when I make my proposal: the next woman to walk through that door shall be the woman whom I court until marriage."

"You're right, I _do_ think you far madder" Quentin agreed. "Would you just _listen_ to yourself? I can't believe you've allowed Flora to get you so bent out of shape that you've become her personal lapdog. If you'd just stop and _think,_ you'd realize that…that……_Desmond?"_ Quentin waved his hand in front of his cousin's face. "Desmond, what's wrong? You look almost as if you've seen a ghost…"

His eyes widening in astonishment, Desmond continued to behold the two beautiful blondes in the entryway, his hand grasping at a table chair as he breathed, "It's Leticia…she has returned to me."

Simultaneously, his wife caught sight of her husband standing there before her, her hand seizing Clara by the wrist as she gasped, "Oh good Lord, luv, I think I'm seein' things now – I can't believe it, but I'm actually seein' my Desmond!"

Clara couldn't help but balk. "Luv, that…that _is_ Desmond, 'cause I see 'im, too…"

_"What?"_ Suddenly feeling quite ill, Leticia allowed the dark shadows to swirl in front of her eyes as she toppled listlessly into Clara's arms, the poor girl crying out as she tried her best to lay her sister on the floor as gently as possible.

"Leticia!" Hurriedly racing over to the two women, Desmond anxiously inquired, "Is she alright? Why has she fainted like that!?"

Clara, however, was far from listening, her eyes sliding in disbelief along his unmistakable features as she breathed, "Heaven help me, it really _is_ you…"

"What on earth are you talking about? Of course it's me!"

"But you were in a carriage accident" Clara insisted. "Flora told us you'd died instantly, luv – that's why Tisha's in such a state."

_"What?"_ Feeling his blood beginning to boil, Desmond hotly demanded, "What else has she told you? Was my alleged death why Leticia never wrote to me?"

Clara gave him a funny look. "Well what on earth do ya mean, luv? Tisha always sentcha one letter a week, if not more… I suppose the postal service 'as been mighty bad this year."

Seeing red, Desmond allowed the insurmountable ire that flowed through his veins to consume him entirely, his limbs shaking as he growled out, "Take Leticia to the inn and make sure she's properly cared for until my return – until then, I have some unfinished business to attend to."

Watching after his rapidly retreating form with wide eyes, Clara began to raise Leticia from off the floor (with Quentin's help) and lead her back outside to the carriage.

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Groaning, Leticia's lashes began to flutter as she felt a moist rag dampen her brow, her eyes finally opening in order to blearily rest upon Clara's concerned countenance. "Desmond" she breathed, "Where…where is 'e?"

"You stop your worryin', ya 'ear? 'e's up at Rose Cottage at the moment, so you jus' lie on back down" Clara urged sternly, her features only softening once she had her sister safely tucked back in. Brushing back a few loose strands of Leticia's hair, she added softly, "Desmond's alive an' well now, luv, so ya both can finally share in the blessin' of your lil' one."

Leticia smiled tearfully. "Yes…an' we can name 'im Barnabas after the kind cousin who assisted in savin' Desmond's life. It's the least we can do ta show our appreciation, don'tcha think?"

Nodding, Clara squeezed her sister's hand before urging, "You get some rest now, alright, luv? I need ta go fetch some produce for supper, so jus' try an' relax 'til my return."

"Alright."

As Clara left the room, Leticia couldn't help but smile, for her Desmond had finally been returned to her, and along with him her renewed love for life.

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"Mother!"

Stunned, Flora stopped writing her latest novel and looked up into the furious eyes of her son, her brows quirking as she entreated, "Why Desmond, whatever is the matter, dearest? You appear most perplexed…"

"Oh yes, that I am" Desmond agreed, his lips curling upward into the bitterest of smiles. "Tell me, Mother: how long have I been unfortunate enough to have perished in a tragic carriage accident? It seems to be quite the talk of the town."

Flora paled. "W-_what?_ How utterly ridiculous!"

"Isn't it?" Desmond agreed. Feigning the process of remembrance, he added, "Oh, and that reminds me…did you know that we should've received not one letter, but _several_ from the Faye's over the course of these past few months? It seems that Leticia was gracious enough to write me at least once a week, yet somehow all of her notes mysteriously disappeared. Isn't that a most curious development?"

Flora laughed uneasily. "Why yes, yes, indeed… I always knew that the postal service was a frivolous company – not to be trusted at all!"

"I couldn't agree more" Desmond acknowledged, "which is exactly why I've come up with an ultimatum for you."

"An ultimatum? For _me?"_

"Why yes" Desmond returned. "You see, dear Mother, you are precisely like this so-called "frivolous company" and cannot be trusted. Either you accept Leticia as my wife and gain a daughter-in-law, or you completely alienate me and lose a son. Think it over, won't you?"

Flora gasped as if she'd been accosted. "Desmond Gabriel Collins! What sort of debauchery is this!?"

"Goodnight, Mother" he insolently acknowledged. "I may return for the night, I may not – if you somehow find yourself in need of me, I shall be at the inn…with my _wife."_

With a gasp, Flora rushed forward in order to intercept her son, but to no avail, tears of frustration stinging along her lashes once she realized that Leticia would be far harder to sever from her family than she originally anticipated.

**A/N:** Busteeeed. :-P I've been re-watching 1840 for the past week now, so I'm trying to get Flora a _little_ more true to her character, so hopefully I've been able to do so. :-S Hope that chapter made up for the crappy update last time – I'll try to update again soon, but there are no promises, eheh. --' I'm still in the process of writing the latest chapter for "Blood and Jasmines", but daggone it, the words just aren't flowing, so it may take even _longer_ for that one…oy ve. :(


	4. Reunited at Last

**CH 4: Reunited at Last**

When Desmond finally arrived at the inn, he was surprised to find Clara anxiously waiting for him in the lobby.

"Oh, Desmond" she wailed, "it's so good ta see ya!" Promptly raining several affectionate kisses across his face, she fondly embraced him about the middle before whispering, "I'm so glad you're alive, luv -- my Tisha's been in such a state that I daresay she woulda keeled over if ya hadn't come back!"

Still in shock over her warm, yet affectionate welcome, Desmond couldn't help but tease, "Now, now, Clara, how many times have I told you that I'm a married man? I don't believe Leticia would take too kindly to your zealous affections."

"Oh!" Blushing several shades of crimson, Clara squealed, "Desmond Collins, you _wicked_ man! If ya weren't me brother-in-law, an' a glorious one at that, I'd take off me gloves an' box your ears!"

Laughing, Desmond jested, "Feel free to box away, dearest Clara, but first I would very much appreciate it if you could show me to my wife."

Clara nodded. "But a' course, luv -- you jus' come with me." Taking him warmly by the arm, the blonde clip-clopped along until she stopped in front of a worn and shabby door, a knowing smile crossing her lips as she revealed, "Tisha's got somethin' mighty excitin' ta tell ya, luv, so I sure 'ope ya don't got any 'eart problems!"

Desmond cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "What do you mean? Has something happened?"

"Oh, ya could say that, luv" Clara slyly agreed. "In fact, what if I were ta tell ya that there'll be another lil' Collins comin' inta the family in a wee bit?"

Desmond's eyes widened. "You mean...? Tisha's finally...!?"

"Yes, luv, yes!"

With an uncharacteristically zealous streak of euphoria, Desmond ripped open the door and went racing into the hotel room like a madman, his loud laughter most likely disturbing their neighbors as he lifted Leticia up into his arms and placed a kiss firmly upon her unsuspecting mouth.

Stunned by the sudden intrusion and affection, Leticia dazedly gazed up into Desmond's warm eyes before cooing, "Oh, luv, ya really _are_ alive...I was so afraid I'd dreamt it!"

Nodding, Desmond fondly took her hand in his before asking, "Is it true, then? Are you really carrying my child?"

"Well, I suppose it _could_ be the pastor's..." Laughing at the bemused look on his face, Leticia insisted, "Oh, luv, ya know I'm jus' jestin'! You're the only man for me, an' ya always will be!"

Clasping her hands to her heart as she watched on, Clara couldn't help but laugh the moment Desmond pulled Leticia out of bed and began waltzing with her across the room.

"Luv, I...I can barely keep up with ya!" Leticia gasped, giggling amidst her attempts at catching her breath. "I'm so glad you're 'appy, 'cause I...I thoughtcha might be disappointed..."

Desmond immediately stopped dancing, his eyes growing soft as he placed her small hand reverently against his heart. "Now how could I ever be disappointed, Tisha? We've been trying to have a baby for so long, and now that it's finally going to happen, I can honestly say that I'm no less eager than when we first started trying."

"Ya mean that?" When Desmond nodded, Leticia gave an elated squeal before pulling him down for a warm and affectionate kiss. When she heard Clara groaning from the corner, she teased, "Oh, hush up, luv, ya've been jealous a' me an' Desmond for the past couple a' years now, so there's no need ta be so green with envy!"

"I-I am _not!_ I'm only sixteen!"

"A fine age for marryin'!" Leticia insisted, smirking as she snuggled further into her husband's arms. "Really though, luv, I've 'eardja talk in your sleep."

Blushing, Clara scowled before pathetically firing back, "Y-ya 'ave _not!_ A true lady don't talk in 'er sleep!"

"Well why shouldn't she be jealous?" Desmond suddenly spoke up, a playful smirk coming to his lips as Clara began to blush deeper and back away into the corner. "You can't help it, after all, that your husband has a nice, big..."

_"Desmond!"_

_"What?_ I was going to say a nice, big trust fund!" he insisted, laughing at the astonished look on his wife's face. "Now that we've got all that nonsense cleared up, why don't we send Clara off on a little walk? I'd very much like to discuss a few things with you."

Before Leticia could even reply, Clara teased, "What, are ya gonna show 'er your 'trust fund', luv? Don't worry, I'm a good sister an' can tell when I'm no longer wanted." Giggling at the horrified looks on their faces, the blonde wrapped her shawl about her shoulders and exited the room in order to leave Leticia and Desmond to their business.

She knew that the streets of Collinsport were uncharacteristically dark that evening, and she wanted to make it into The Eagle before it got any worse.

Pulling her shawl more closely about her neck, Clara shivered and pressed determinedly onward, briefly taking note of the fact that she was now the only inhabitant of the small, narrow street. Its bumpy surface glittered eerily within the dull glow of the lamplight, her clear gray eyes taking a moment to adjust to the massive lack of the moon's iridescence.

'_It's so cold'_ she thought bitterly, her teeth chattering amidst the chill. '_I've never seen such a dull and somber night…what on earth's goin' on with the weather?'_

Shaking her head in disgust, Clara drearily watched the fog of her breath float like a small cloud before her lips, her ears suddenly jolting to attention the moment she overheard the soft crunching of ice crystals beneath a pair of tattered boots. When she picked up the pace, however, the footfalls only grew louder and faster.

Finally unable to take it, Clara broke out into a run, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as her long legs extended in order to allow her better acceleration. Just as she thought she was gaining the upper-hand, a strong arm wrapped about her slender waist and pulled her sharply backward, her eyes widening as her slim form collided against a tightly-muscled chest.

_"Hiya, cutie."_

Clara froze on impulse, her lips parting in order to allow the smallest of squeaks to escape her throat. Her flesh prickled with perspiration the moment the figure flicked a blade out against the base of her neck, her nostrils burning with the putrid stench of the masculine figure's stale breath as one of his chubby fingers caressed her flushed cheek.

"You're mighty purty, missus" he whispered, pausing in order to lick the lobe of Clara's ear. "Maybe if ya lemme have a lil' fun, I'll briefly forget aaaall about my lil' mission."

Clara couldn't help but burst into tears at this proclamation, her voice raising in terror as she squeaked, "Mission? _What_ mission!? W-why can'tcha jus' lea'me alone, luv? I didn't do nothin' wrong!"

Pressing the blade deeper into Clara's flesh, the man hissed, "Ask me no questions, an' I'll tell ya no lies...get movin', girly."

With a frantic nod, Clara allowed the stranger to lead her forward and into a dark alley, her tears blinding her vision as she inwardly realized that she'd most likely never see her sister, again.

**A/N**: I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, but no promises! ;0) I've also completed my Barnabas/Josette/Willie love triangle "Blood and Jasmines" if you'd like to read it. :) Enjoy!


	5. The Blackest Night

**CH 5: The Blackest Night**

It was the tortured wail that initially brought the Collinsport Inn to attention, Desmond urging Leticia to stay put as he grabbed his coat and went racing out into the hallway.

"There! She's out there...please, you must come quickly!"

"Who, Mrs. O'Connor? You're not making any sense!" a concerned woman demanded, her hands encircling the older resident's arm as she tried to get her to calm down.

"The little blonde girl" Mrs. O'Connor evasively returned. "The little blonde girl needs our help...oh God, you must come, for she's hurt _badly!"_

Feeling a sense of panic overtaking him at this news, Desmond approached the two women before urging, "Where is this young girl? Please, you must tell me!"

"Out there...in the back alley a little ways down" Mrs. O'Connor breathlessly revealed. "Please, you must hurry...I think she's dying!"

Cursing, Desmond raced out of the inn as if his coat tails were on fire, his boots slapping against the street turf as he willed his legs to go faster. Every joint in his body felt numb with terror, yet Desmond's fear was the one thing that kept him moving. He needed to find Clara, and _fast._

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The blood was coppery and bitter in her mouth, her weak form doubled over as she tried her damndest to stave off the thug's blows with her rapidly dissipating aura of courage. Donovan didn't care if she was brave or not, and that was evident -- Clara's growing weakness only made his attacks all the more sweet.

Rearing back and viciously striking his captive across the jowl, Donovan reveled in the sick pleasure of watching Leticia's sister spit up her own blood, his voice cold and hollow as he remarked, "There, there, don't cry, purty missus...I guess I don't _hafta_ kill ya since there's always the option of leavin' ya only half-dead."

A brief glimmer of hope blitzed our across Clara's irises, yet the thug greedily wiped it from her face once he cruelly struck her for the umpteenth time. Whimpering as his fist connected with her bruised and bloodied face yet again, her gray eyes squeezed shut in defeat as she felt herself slowly beginning to accept her inevitable death. A chorus of angels would come flying down from heaven and take her off into the unknown, far, far away from all her internal hells.

_'Oh...there they are now'_ she thought, her eyes gradually re-opening as she listened to the telltale sign of quickened footsteps. To her surprise, it wasn't a heavenly brigade of angels, but...

"Desmond" Clara breathed, her eyes wide and full of fear for his safety. Yes, a strong part of her had yearned for him to come and save her, but now that he actually had she knew very well that he was far smaller than the man who held her captive.

Desmond's calm and normally cheerful facade was wild and almost animalistic, his eyes reflecting like fiery embers as he dared to approach them with quick, measured steps. Words could not escape him -- his insides were roiling with a hellish fury over seeing Leticia's beloved sister all beaten and bloodied like a prisoner of war. She looked so small in his arms...so _helpless._

Reaching out to her savior with outstretched arms, Clara gave a cry the moment Donovan pushed her back against the wall and flicked his blade against her throat, tears spilling down her cheeks as he viciously growled out, "Don't do it, sir, or else I jus' might hafta cut somethin' off this purty lil' wench's face...an ear, perhaps?"

Desmond gritted his teeth. "If you harm her, so help me God, I will personally see to it that you are hanged for being the miserable scoundrel you are!"

Donovan gave a hoarse laugh at this proclamation, yet his expression of mirth soon ended the moment Desmond's fist connected with his jaw. Staggering backwards, Donovan's head struck the wall before he launched his counterattack, Clara watching on with wide and fearful eyes as the men continued to grapple viciously.

It wasn't until Donovan grabbed her that she even knew what was happening, an excruciating pain erupting deep within her bosom the moment he thrust his knife forward and sank the blade deep within her breast. Choking on her own blood, Clara released a wheezy gasp as he withdrew the weapon and stabbed her yet again, her knees threatening to give out beneath her once she felt him remove his knife from her chest and push her back against the wall.

_"Clara!"_

"Des...mond..."

Reaching out to him, Clara gave a whimper before crumpling down to her knees, blood dribbling down over her chin as she listened to the beginnings of a heated chase.

"Don't...leave me" she begged, Desmond screaming expletives after Donovan as his voice began to quiver with emotion. Hearing him so broken up made Clara's heart ache, for she loved Desmond nearly as much as her beloved sister. Without him Leticia no longer felt the need to live, so his very presence in their lives made Clara feel as if she'd be forever in his debt.

Before she could contemplate this a moment longer, Desmond came rushing back over to her before gently lifting her up into his arms, his hand pushing back a lock of her hair as he tried his best to repress his tears. "Clara" he softly beseeched, "oh God, are you able to walk? I need to get you to a hospital, and I..."

"No" Clara gently cut in, "it's far too late for that, luv. I...I think I already 'ear the angels callin' for me..."

Desmond frantically shook his head in negation. "No Clara, you're _wrong..._ I-in fact, your wound doesn't even look all that bad...with a little bit of rest and medicine, you'll be good as new!"

Clara couldn't help but smile at this, her fingers curling fondly about his as she breathed, "Oh Desmond...ya always were such a good-'earted soul. I know you're lyin' a' me, but that still doesn't mean that I don't appreciate your tryin' ta take away my fears. I'm alright, luv...really, I am. It's Tisha I'm worried about, 'cause she doesn't 'andle pain too well...take care of 'er for me, won'tcha, luv? You're all she's got now..."

By this point Desmond could no longer suppress the tears, his hands coming up in order to frame Clara's face as he breathed, "You're Leticia's best friend, Clara...if you think I'm just going to let you go, you're wrong! She _needs_ you!"

"She needs _you"_ Clara firmly insisted. "If you'd a' seen 'ow torn up she was over your alleged death, you'd know exactly what I mean, luv."

"But Clara, I..."

"Shh...ya 'ear that, luv?" Cocking her head to the side, a brilliant smile slipped across Clara's lips as she whispered, "It's the angels, luv...they've finally come for me..."

"Clara, _NO!"_ In one last desperate attempt at keeping her on earth, Desmond wrested her protectively against his chest as if this would keep her spirit from slipping away. Burying his face against the crook of her neck, Desmond's shoulders began to shiver and shake as he felt the very life draining out of Clara's body.

"You can't go" he sobbed, "you _can't!"_

Clara sank limply against him in response, Desmond's eyes squeezing shut in despair once he realized she was gone.

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When Desmond finally returned to the inn, his features appeared haggard and worn with the inevitable signs of misery, his labored steps thudding against the hardwood floor before he stopped in front of Leticia's room. And Leticia...what would she think of all this? How could she _cope?_

Biting his lip, Desmond tore away all inner apprehension and thrust open the door, his heart nearly stopping the moment he rested his gaze upon Leticia's weeping form.

"It's Clara, isn't it?" she asked, never once removing her gaze from her lap. "She's the blonde girl everyone's been talking about, isn't she?"

Wordlessly closing the door, Desmond approached Leticia before having a seat alongside her on the bed. "I tried to save her...oh God, Tisha, what kind of man am I? If I'd been able to stop that man, Clara would still be here right now..." Tearing at his hair, Desmond moaned, "Why did I tell her to take a walk? I'm a _monster!"_

Clapping her hands over her ears, Leticia screamed, "Stop it, luv, jus' stop it! You an' I both know thatcha could a' never prevented this, so please...jus' stop." Now raising her tearful gaze to his, Leticia weakly asked, "Do ya think I could see 'er? I...I need ta say goodbye."

Desmond felt his heart clench at her words, yet he nevertheless found himself shaking his head in response. "It's not a pretty sight, Tisha -- I want your memories of Clara to be pleasant ones, so I left her in the care of a few friends to spare you of the misery I've had to undergo."

Horrified, Leticia demanded, "Well whaddaya mean, luv? Please stop beatin' 'round the bush an' jus' show me to my sister!"

"Tisha..."

"No!" she screamed. "I need this, Desmond...Clara was my best friend, so 'ow can ya possibly expect me ta properly say goodbye without even seein' 'er?"

Before Desmond could even stop her, Leticia raced out of the bedroom and into the lobby, a piercing wail escaping her throat the moment she spotted several people gathered around a blonde figure. Pushing her way through the small crowd, Leticia dropped down to her knees and threw her arms about Clara's bloodied middle, Leticia's sobs echoing throughout the room as she moaned, "Oh, why do the ones I love always 'afta get 'urt? She didn't deserve this...she _didn't!"_

"Tisha..." Giving her a pained look, Desmond came up from behind and took her by the shoulders before urging, "Tisha, you've got to let her go...she wouldn't want you to see her like this."

Leticia stubbornly held on to Clara tighter than before, a wretched scream escaping her lips the moment she felt Desmond prying her away from her dear sister. "No!" she sobbed, "No, ya can't, luv, lemme go! I gotta be with 'er!"

Tearfully wresting Leticia into his comforting embrace, Desmond stroked her hair as she turned and threw her arms about his neck, their tears mingling as they held one another close and mourned the loss of their sweet Clara.

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"Mrs. Collins?"

Flora immediately looked up. "Yes, Constance, what is it?"

"You have a visitor, ma'am -- a Mr. Charles Donovan is here to see you. He says it is most urgent."

"Send him in, then" Flora urged, her anxiety only mounting as she watched her maid egress back into the foyer.

Within moments a tall, rather chubby man made his presence known, his nervousness quite evident as he continued to rotate his top hat between his hands.

"Well?" Flora urged. "Have you kidnapped Miss Faye as I've asked?"

Bowing his head, Donovan mumbled "Well ma'am, I...I was _tryin'_ to, but some guy came back an' interfered with the plans. I ended up stabbin' the girl a couple a' times as a distraction so I could escape, an' I jus' heard through the grapevine that she's dead."

Horrified, Flora threw a hand over her mouth before reiterating, _"Dead?_ Oh dear God, Donovan...you weren't supposed to kill that poor creature -- her kidnapping was supposed to help with convincing Leticia to leave the family in return for Clara's life!"

"I know that, ma'am" Donovan pathetically drawled, "But it's a lil' too late now, ain't it? I gotta get outta here before anyone figures out what I've done!"

Sickened, Flora hissed, "Then get out of my home before I call the authorities, you despicable brute -- I cannot believe what you've done!"

"But ma'am, I..."

_"Out!"_

Nodding, Donovan begrudgingly left Flora to her own devices, the latter's heart breaking upon the realization of what horrible level she'd finally sunk. She'd never hated Clara -- the girl had always been terribly sweet, but when Flora had seen an opportunity to get rid of Leticia, she'd foolishly jumped at the idea of hiring some half-witted ruffian to follow through with her plan.

Placing her head in her hands, Flora found herself miserably wondering how on earth she could possibly hope to redeem herself now that she'd done the unthinkable.

**A/N**: If things continue to go as planned, this story should be over in one or two chapters. :) Yay. lol That's a good thing since I just started school, and I can tell that it's going to be a loooong semester. lol


	6. Lacrimosa

**CH 6: Lacrimosa**

It had now been several months since Clara's untimely death, and Leticia was well aware that she could have her child at any given moment. Swollen, weary, and completely irritable, she continued to stand in Rose Cottage gazing outside her bedroom window. And Rose Cottage…

She smiled.

How very odd that they had ended up living there, especially after Flora's speech about not wanting anything to do with her for as long as she lived. What was more peculiar still was how Flora had acted after Clara's death, for she had begged both Desmond and Leticia to live with her and to stay for as long as they wished. Desmond, of course had been delighted since he thought Flora had finally come around, but Leticia knew better. There was no pleasing that woman, so she'd either felt it her motherly duty, or had had a change of heart – both seemed positively improbable.

"Leticia?"

Turning with an expectant smile on her face, the performer held her arms out before rushing into Desmond's warm, caring embrace. "Oh, luv" she cooed, "must ya go ta Boston? I fear that I'll 'ave the baby while you're gone!"

Giving her a rueful smile, Desmond kissed her cheek before insisting, "It'll just be for a little while, my love – I promise that I'll return as soon as I can, but until Hurst's case is solved, I'm afraid I'll still be needed by the firm."

Leticia's brilliant smile waned. "Oh…then ya don't think you'll be back for quite some time?"

"Maybe in a little over a week" Desmond agreed, "but don't worry – if I catch wind of your giving birth, I will most certainly drop all my duties and return to you, the one duty that _truly_ matters." Taking her by the hands, he added, "And remember our little agreement: if it's a boy, we'll name him William Charles, but if it's a girl, I think I'd like her to be named Clara Celeste instead of Rebecca."

"Oh, Desmond…" Throwing her arms about her husband's neck, Leticia claimed his mouth with her own again and again before finally withdrawing, two crystalline tears trickling down her cheeks as she felt her heart break. Desmond truly _did _love Clara as much as she had, and his suggestion only proved it even further.

Bringing Leticia's hand to his lips, Desmond regarded her with one last warm smile before bestowing a parting kiss upon her warm mouth. It was with great effort that Leticia fought to stay strong, but after Desmond had finally left the room, she could no longer forfend the tears.

Hugging herself for comfort, Leticia found that it was moments like these when she missed Clara the most.

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"Sugar for your tea?"

Leticia smiled before shaking her head, her eyes lowering to the floor as she apologized, "I'm sorry, luv, but I think I've changed me mind about the tea… I jus' can't seem ta keep anything down today!"

"Well that's alright, my dear – all mothers-to-be experience that at some point or another" Flora warmly assured her. After adding two lumps of sugar to her own tea, she sustained, "I hope you don't mind, but I decided to continue the story starring you and Gerard."

Leticia looked up in surprise. "Oh? Well I'm mighty honored, luv, but what brought on the sudden change a' 'eart?"

"I don't know" Flora admitted, "but I woke up this morning with the indelible urge to complete it. I plan on keeping it the same, save for the fact that this time I've decided to make your character pregnant."

Leticia couldn't help but smile. "Why luv, it sounds positively marvelous! As long as my character ain't carryin' Gerard's child, I approve a' the change one-hundred percent!"

Mirroring the performer's smile, Flora felt a stab of grief enter her heart over the thought of what she'd done to poor Leticia. Flora didn't like to admit it, but after having lived with Desmond and his wife for quite some time, she'd discovered that she'd been completely wrong. Leticia _did_ love Desmond, and quite passionately – Flora could see it in her eyes and by the way she so adoringly looked after him.

Feeling tears forming along her lashes, Flora glanced down at Leticia's protruding middle before shyly inquiring, "May I…? I mean, do you think I could…?"

"Why yes, a' 'course, luv!" Leticia chirped, clearly mistaking Flora's emotion for the pride over the baby. Scooting closer to her mother in law, Leticia cheerily added, "'e's a feisty lil' bugger, too – 'e was kickin' around an' 'avin' 'imself a mighty splendid time this mornin'!"

Laughing, Flora placed her hand over Leticia's middle and felt a surge of maternal love fill her soul. The thought that she would soon be a grandmother touched her quite deeply, for she never thought she'd get the chance. Desmond had married rather late in life for a man of his stature, yet after all this time she could honestly say that he'd done so quite smartly.

Still feeling guilty, Flora moved to confess about all the horrible things she'd done when Leticia gave an agonized cry, the performer clutching at her middle as she wailed, "It 'urts, luv… Oh God, 'ow it 'urts!"

Panicking, Flora quickly rose from the couch before urging, "Wait here…I'll get Constance to go and fetch the midwife!"

Nodding amidst her pain, Leticia tried her best to calm down, but nothing was working…

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"C'mon, breathe darlin', _breathe!"_

Screaming in agony, Leticia continued to clutch Flora's hand as the midwife instructed her on what to do, the performer's eyes squeezing tightly closed as her womb felt as if it were being torn in half. There was so much pain…so much _blood!_

"I see a head, darlin', you're almost there! Keep pushin'!" the midwife urged, her hand giving Leticia's ankle a reassuring squeeze. "C'mon now, that's it…that's a good girl…"

Perspiring as if she were standing amidst a downpour, Leticia released yet another anguished wail as she pushed with all her might. Within moments, the pressure was suddenly released and a glorious sense of calm overtook her – the child had finally been born.

Giving a joyful laugh, Leticia held out her arms before urging, "Well come now, luv, can I at least 'old 'er? After all that 'orrid work, I think I should be entitled ta 'oldin' the lil' runt!"

The midwife, however, remained eerily silent – come to think of it, the baby was silent, too.

"Ms. 'averty?" Leticia beseeched, a dreadful fear now coiling its way within her breast. "Ms. 'averty, I want my baby…please give 'im ta me!"

Flora placed a hand over her mouth as the midwife solemnly shook her head, a feeling akin to that of the worst pain imaginable entering her soul the moment Leticia released a blood-curdling scream.

"I want my baby!" she sobbed. "Oh please, gimme my lil' baby!"

Wordlessly handing the bloody stillborn over to its hysterical mother, Mrs. Haverty locked eyes with Flora before sadly bowing her head. There was nothing more she could do.

**A/N**: Aaaand that's a wrap! Well…not completely, there's only one more chapter, but oh well, same difference. lol I'm glad this is almost over…getting tired of tragedy after tragedy. Ok, so that's a lie…I'm just getting tired of writing it. :-P lol I was originally going to have Leticia go into some nutty tangent, but then I decided against it since I could just do that in another chapter, if need be. Anywhos, hope it was ok…


	7. Light in the Shadows

**CH 7: Light in the Shadows**

"Must you leave now, Leticia? Desmond hasn't even returned from Boston!"

Leticia looked up at Flora with tearful eyes, yet she found that she couldn't hold her gaze. Glancing miserably down at the floor, she mumbled, "I'm sorry, luv, but I 'ave to… Desmond wouldn't want me anymore, anyway. Who could ever want a wife who can't even bear a son?"

Flora gave her a pained look. "Leticia, I'm truly surprised at you – since when has Desmond's love ever waned? If anything, I've found that tragedy only brings you two closer together."

"I jus' buried me son, Flora – I'd rather not speak a' tragedies right now, if ya don't mind" Leticia whispered, a lone tear trickling down her cheek as she gazed upon the cradle in the far corner. Flora had given it to her and Desmond as a present, but now it seemed that there would no longer be any use for it. Hugging herself for comfort, Leticia added, "Please tell Constance ta ready the carriage… I won't be leavin' for a few hours, but it'd still make me feel better knowin' I could leave at any time."

"Then…there's no convincing you to stay?" When Leticia shook her head, Flora bitterly glanced down at the floor before agreeing, "Very well, then…I'll get Constance to ready the carriage."

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When Desmond returned to Rose Cottage, he appeared to be no more enthusiastic than a man entering death row. Then son he'd longed for was now gone, and he'd never even gotten a chance to say goodbye.

Hanging his coat up in the foyer, Desmond absently re-adjusted his ascot before heading for the stairs, tears blurring his vision once he realized that Leticia was surely blaming herself for all that had transpired. His wife was a very delicate woman, so the harrowing thought of her possible condition was enough to make him tremble.

"Leticia?"

Cautiously pushing open their bedroom door, Desmond's heart lurched at the sight of her weeping over the cradle, one of the child's promised stuffed animals being held tightly within her grasp. "Oh, Leticia…"

With her head bowed, the performer barely even acknowledged her husband as he entered the room. Stroking the toy's head, she asked, "Whaddaya doin' 'ere, luv? I…I was 'opin' ta leave before ya came back – far less painful that way."

"But why?" Desmond demanded, by now clearly alarmed. "Have I done something wrong?"

Leticia regarded him with a tearful smile, only to immediately shake her fair head. "You, luv? Never… It's _me_ who's done somethin' wrong, so I decided ta walk outta your life an' give ya a chance ta find someone else before it's too late."

"Tisha…" Placing a hand against Leticia's cheek, Desmond forced her to return his gaze before inquiring, "Is that what this is all about? You think I don't want you in my life because you had a miscarriage?" Shaking his head, Desmond insisted, "Tisha, we can always try again…"

"But it took so long in the first place!" Leticia mournfully interrupted. "If ya want a son, an' I know thatcha do, please allow me ta walk out so ya can get jus' that!"

"Leticia, I don't know how I can convince you of the fact, but I'm in love with _you_ and only you – if I were to allow you to leave as you wish, I'd be miserable." Stroking her cheek, Desmond whispered, "I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a selfish man when it comes to you…you're all I've ever wanted. Hell, all I've ever _needed_ – if you never get pregnant again, so be it, because I can imagine life without a child long before I could ever imagine one without you."

Leticia gazed up at her husband with an incurable touch of love, her hands coming up in order to frame his face as she breathed, "Ya really mean all that, luv? You're willin' ta try again, even if I'm never able ta give ya a son?"

Pressing his forehead to hers, Desmond nodded before revealing, "As long as I've got you, the woman I love most, my life can never be unfulfilled."

"Then I'll stay" Leticia softly agreed. "For you."

Embracing one another with a fervent tenderness, the couple held one another amidst their tears and conceded that they could always try again. The sorrows of 1843 would never be forgotten, but with a love as strong as theirs, they knew all the pain and anguish would one day be overcome.

**A/N**: Welp, that's it! 'Twas fun while it lasted, but I've still got two other stories to write. Bah. lol


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